


Shifting Sands

by cordeliadelayne



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Slash, The start of something beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordeliadelayne/pseuds/cordeliadelayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It is the strange fate of man, that even in the greatest of evils the fear of the worst continues to haunt him” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting Sands

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for aoibhe, who gave the prompt “ghosts” and posted to Livejournal in 2008.

“Are you coming, Reid?” Prentiss asked, holding the door open. “Reid?”

“Hmm, oh, sorry.” He shook his head. “No, I think I’ll finish up a few things here.”

Prentiss looked at him, coolly assessing, and then by sheer force of will she seemed to make him look up at Hotch’s office, the very place he’d been trying _not_ to look.

“Okay,” she said, a smile twitching at her lips. “Just be careful. Hey guys, wait up!”

And then she was gone and the silence of the office settled around his shoulders. The problem with the BAU, he reflected, as he trudged up to Hotch’s office, was that they were far too adept at reading each other. He could only hope that Hotch was too distracted to pick up on any signals he was giving off.

“Knock, knock,” Reid said, lightly tapping at the door and stepping inside. Hotch was sitting behind his desk, staring at a file but not really looking at it.

“The others have all gone for a drink,” Reid told him, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Hotch didn’t respond, just kept looking at the file. “I didn’t feel much up to it.” As the silence dragged on he sat down in the chair opposite Hotch, fingers playing nervously with a loose button on his jacket.

“Kidnapping makes up less than 2% of all violent crimes against juveniles,” Reid recited. “Crimes against juveniles only constitute one-eighth of all crimes reported to law enforcement.”

“And more than 70% of reported sex offences involve juveniles. If you’re trying to reassure me, you’re doing a pretty bad job.”

Reid frowned. Statistics were a source of comfort to him, something he could understand; it was easy to forget that most other people didn’t feel the same.

Hotch stood up and began putting well-worn papers back into the file, a haunted expression on his face. “Shouldn’t you be heading home?” he asked finally, when it was clear that Reid was just going to carry on sitting there until Hotch said something.

“Yeah. Want to come?” Reid held his breath as their eyes locked, the tension in the air reaching fever pitch. Hotch licked his lips and Reid let out a sigh – of pleasure, or relief, he wasn’t sure.

“We shouldn’t leave together,” Hotch said, eyes darting to the empty bullpen.

“No one cares,” Reid told him, hoping he could spell it out without using the words. Even he wasn’t completely oblivious.

“Oh.” Hotch took a moment to process that before nodding. It made sense that the rest of the team would realise before he did. “Let’s go then.”

Reid stood up and adjusted the strap on his bag as he waited for Hotch to put his coat on. Then they walked out of the office, side by side.


End file.
